


I See your Road Mapped in your Scars.

by skele_smol



Series: At Every End Is A New Beginning [4]
Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Both girls are so broken, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, I love my wrecks, One Shot, Opening Up, Romance, Scars, Semi Nudity, Storm - Freeform, The storm is symbolic, not in the sexy way, talk of past, though Vi has thoughts, what even are these tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 04:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19100143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skele_smol/pseuds/skele_smol
Summary: “Clem?” She ventured shyly. Hesitantly as she shifted herself onto her left hip, breath catching in her throat as the younger woman peered up at her through shadows and thick lashes.“Mmm?”“Would it be OK if I asked about some of your scars? Like, would you tell me what happened?”





	I See your Road Mapped in your Scars.

**Author's Note:**

> Soooooo, I promise I am working on chapter 4 of Built on Ash and Bone, I just had this story kinda come screaming in out of left field after writing fluff and fun little stories. And it just would not go away. So, I hope people are ready to read some angst.
> 
> I adore my gaybies. I adore them more when they show each other how broken they both are and trust each other to help them pick up the pieces again.

**I See your Road Mapped in your Scars.**

 

The sun's reach had permeated its touch through to her bones, the heat radiating outwards. The thick, muggy air pressing a sheen of sweat, viscous and oozing, uncomfortably against her skin. And even now, as the golden touch had shortened and the starless night closed in around the old Ericson school house, relief was denied. The old red-brick structure was built to retain heat, not expel it and, unfortunately for those who resided within its walls, it completed it's task admirably.

Clementine tossed miserably, fighting a losing battle for sleep. Her loose fitting shirt sticking and clinging to her back in places where sweat had pooled. Her skin was glistening and damp, her nape tight and itching beneath her thick dark curls. At her side, Violet slept easily. Silver blonde hair fanning against pillow and brow. Small frame curling around itself, slouching even while she was at rest, and her pouting lips parted slightly as she breathed. The younger girl felt a small smile form on her lips, watching curiously as pale lashes flickered against high cheeks, the eyes behind the lids darting as she dreamed. Clementine wanted nothing more than to join her in sleep, enveloped by the welcomed warmth of slumber rather than the stifling heat of a West Virginian summer's night, but she was not yet tempered to the humidity.

Huffing a sigh, Clementine rolled the brassy tang in the air over her tongue, the clouds had been drawing in low and brooding these last few days, promising a storm that had yet to break. She shifted from her back and onto her side, reaching down over the edge of her bed for the crutches lain on the floor as she had retired for the night. Her fingertips groped blindly through the scattering of her heavy daytime clothing until they found the smooth and hard wooden poles. Shuffling her legs around and untangling sheets from her sticky skin, she dug her elbows into the old, sagging mattress and fought for leverage until she was free and sitting upright.

Old, worn springs grumbled and creaked in protest of her clumsy movements. Tinny complaints high and sharp to her ear. Cringing against the sounds, Clementine cast a careful glance backwards, her throat tight with concern that she may have disturbed her blonde bed-mates peaceful sleeping. Thankfully, Violet's breathing still reached her at the same relaxed pace. Even and deep. Releasing her own held breath and tucking the wooden shafts beneath her arms, Clementine lifted herself and, as softly as she could, hobbled across the bare floorboards to the desk where a deep bowl stood waiting. Moonlight skated across the glassy and still surface of the cold water, unable to penetrate through to the darkened depths. Balancing herself more steadily on her foot, Clementine removed the crutches from beneath her arms and lay them to rest, propped against the desk, before returning her attention back to the water.

Dipping her fingertips through the molten mirror and shattering her shadowed reflection, Clementine hummed her delight. Cupping and lifting the liquid in her hands, she relished the droplets that escaped and rolled down her forearms. Chill pellets licked a frigid path along skin heated by warm blood and enticing the telltale pocks of goose flesh to rise in their wake. The relief was immediate. Close laying blood vessels eagerly absorbed the welcomed chill and carried it further around her body with every thump of her heart. Scooping up more of the glorious cold, Clementine fairly moaned as she dribbled the crisp touches over the nape of her neck. The raw and cold fingers spreading their reach along her spine, nerves singing as pleasant shivers briefly chased the tendrils of relief into the parched fabric of her shirt and greedily sucked it away.

Frustration clawed at her thoughts and her still overheating body complained at the unfairness of the loss. And, with barely a thought to consider her action, Clementine ripped the offending scrap of material over her head before dunking it deep into the dark depths contained within the basin. Fully saturated now, the thin fabric became little more than a wash cloth, a tool to swipe away the caked and itching salt of her dried sweat. Tiny splashes tumbled together in a rising chorus as again and again the shirt was soaked, wrung and dragged over her skin. Over shoulders, under arms, around small mounds of perky breast. Her own contented hums and purrs of relief joined the joyful harmony, building the crescendo until a third voice, sleep roughened and husky, slinked in to join the song.

"Mmhmm. You should have woken me when the clothes started coming off. I'd have helped."

Clementine smirked to herself, barely turning as she tilted her chin over her shoulder. Her breath caught in her throat when she found Violet's eyes shining back at her from in the darkness, almost aglow with a silver green light as the moonlight swathed its touch across her pale skin. Violet looked almost Fae like with her sharp delicate features, untamed and gloriously fierce and so very alive in the ethereal flame of moonlight.

“I’ll bet you would've.” Clementine teased before returning her focus to her task. This time swiping the bunched up shirt across the flat of her belly and squeezing a few droplets free to trek and roll a cooling path along the curve of her hip. “And I hate to disappoint you, but this time my nudity is for practicality not fun.”

“Your nudity is always fun, Clem.” She could hear the playful lilt to Violet's voice and the sounds of her sylphlike lover shifting atop of the blankets. The swish of fabric stirring through the stilled air told her that when she turned back, she was likely to find Violet in a similar state of undress. “And it's definitely practical.”

Clementine rolled her eyes in good humor as she made a final pass over her now water glossed skin. Fingertips trailing through the sparkling droplets that had collected at her sternum and tracked sluggishly the valley between her breasts. Without turning, she called out to Violet through the darkness, her voice hushed and tone content. “Do you want to cool off, too?”

“Sure. Probably a good idea.”

Dunking the shirt in to the water for a final time, a mischievous thought flitted into the forefront of Clementine's mind and curled at her lips. Kneading her fingers into the saturated fibers, she lifted the sodden shirt from the basin, holding it with careful fingers so not to accidentally squeeze the excess drops free. “Think fast, Vi!”

The heavy ball of fabric soared blindly over her shoulder, arcing high before plummeting down and striking bared skin with a wet, stinging slap. Clementine chuckled from the back of her throat, dark and rich, at Violet's indignant squawk as the sodden projectile found it's target. Bending to gather her crutches once more, the younger of the two turned back around to begin her return trip to the bed just as the first roll of thunder boomed behind her, spooking her just enough for her to make a dive for the safety of the mattress and Violet.

… The storm had finally broken.

It began slowly with the lightest of pittering pebbled rain, tinking against the shards of broken glass still clinging defiantly to the window frame and plunking onto the scratched up surface of the desk. But within the span of the few minutes it took for Violet to put a flame to the candles that stood upon the nightstand behind her and for Clementine to properly settle, tucked tight against Violet's side, the smattering had turned to a deluge that cut through the still air in vicious bladed sheets and the first tongue of lightning lit up the room like a strobe flash.

The sharp light caught in Clementine's eyes, briefly igniting the threads of gold that infused the depths of warmed honey before the rush of darkness swallowed them back into the night. Violet felt her cheeks flush hot under the gaze that beheld her from the shadows, her heart pounding in her throat. Falling in love with Clementine had been so very easy; admitting it to herself that _that_ was what she felt, that had been the hard part. It had felt strange at first, the fluttering in her belly and the twirling caged behind her ribs. Not even Minnie had stirred such emotion in her, even as she had carved that childish declaration into the cabin wall for her. Her hand, still damp, reached out for Clementine's in the darkness. Her long, pale fingers intertwined with the shorter, darker digits as they slid to slot perfectly in the spaces between her own.

The storm outside had taken its full hold now. The spans of darkness between the white flashes had lengthened, slowly yielding to the dominant booming roars that vibrated the very air around them. Violet leaned her head back, her eyes sweeping down Clementine's bared skin touched by the warming glow of small flickering flames and mapped the silvery scars that marked her lithe body. They held stories behind them. Stories that carried a deeper meaning beyond the simple symbolism of tough choices and battles that she had fought and won as well as the wars that she had lost. Stories that Violet was curious to to know.

“Clem?” She ventured shyly. Hesitantly as she shifted herself onto her left hip, breath catching in her throat as the younger woman peered up at her through shadows and thick lashes.

“Mmm?”

“Would it be OK if I asked about some of your scars? Like, would you tell me what happened?” Her voice was quieter now, less sure. “It's just, I know some of your past but, I really want to know all of you.” She felt her confidence wither even further as Clementine carefully rolled onto her right side and drew her knees up closer to her belly. Curling in on herself in a frustratingly familiar defensive posture, one that she was intimately familiar with in herself. The dancing flame caught upon the uncertainty reflected in her eyes as she dropped them to study their twined fingers, but Violet was committed now and she steeled her nerves and offered her barter. “And I want you to know more about me too. So I thought that maybe we could exchange a few stories.”

Still the younger girl remained silent, applying her focus to simply untangling and entangling their fingers.

“Here, consider this a freebie.” Violet tugged their joined hand to her face, gently brushing the knuckles with her lips before she tilted her chin downward to her chest and guided nimble fingers through the sweat damped strands to the curve of her skull. Her brows furrowed as she concentrated on feeling the path with the pads of Clementine's probing digits through her scalp. Clementine's eyes lifted to watch curiously as she allowed Violet to lead her by the wrist through the cascade of pale gold, her gaze only dipping once, barely in time to catch a quick flash of a pink tongue as the blonde drew her bottom lip between her teeth, nibbling shyly. A moment later Clementine heard Violet's triumphant gasp and felt the fleshy tip of her right ring finger catch against a small furrow nearing the crown. “There! You feel that?”

Clementine frowned, circling the dented skin gingerly, tracing the depth and the shape. “What happened?”

“Fell down the stairs at Grandma's place when I was six.” The blonde said quietly, grinning shyly and peering through her messy strands to meet Clementine's gaze. The brunette's eyes, firmly fixed on Violet's face, had shed their guarded light and now danced in rapt fascination and silently pleading for her to continue her story. Grin tugging at her lips, Violet nodded, delighting in the fact that her offer had gently coaxed Clementine to engage. “I was a weird kid. Always running around and playing by myself. I mean, it wasn't like the other kids my age wanted to play with a trailer park brat. I was different, quiet, always dirty.” Her voice trailed off as she paused and swallowed awkwardly, sliding her eyes away to watch the shifting shadows that danced with the candles golden flame for a moment before continuing. “But I didn't care, not really. Grandma always made time for me and Grandpa would take me fishing sometimes at the creek. So, Grandma had one of those brass dog statues, the real heavy ones that she used to prop open the front door with in the summer's, y'know, to air out the house. I was running down the stairs, tugging on my waders when I tripped and fell. Broke my wrist and split my head open on that stupid, fucking dogs ass. I cried so much. Not because I was hurt, but because I just really, really wanted to go fishing with Grandpa that day.”

“Sounds kind of lonely.” Clementine murmured, her fingers sliding through the strands of ash blonde, a gentle and comforting motion. Losing herself in flecks of gray and whirlpools of green, the mesmerizing galaxies that swirled with the candlelight dancing in her eyes. “Didn't you have any brothers or sisters?”

Violet shrugged, leaning deeper into Clementine's touch. “I dunno. I mean, maybe, I guess. My dad wasn't real big on the whole monogamy thing. He'd tom-cat around town and my mom, she just happened to be the one who put up with his shit the most. I'm sure she knew he was stepping out on her, but she never called him out on it. Too busy with keeping a roof over their heads. I guess that's what made her the one for dad to wanna shack up with. And then mom got pregnant and he was stuck with us. Grandpa convinced him to marry mom before I came along. He was kinda old-fashioned in that way.”

Clementine's fingers trailed down to curl around Violet's chin, leaning her head in and stealing a chaste touch from parted lips. Light and comforting, a fleeting caress. Pulling back, Clementine offered a warm and genuine smile, her eyes no longer shuttered but opened and welcoming. Laying here, with Violet, she was home. Held in her arms was where she felt safe. And she knew that Violet understood better than anyone her conflict and reluctance involving anything of her history, the shields that guarded and, in turn, she knew how much Violet truly treasured their moments of naked openness. Easily accepting the vulnerabilities of the girl hidden beneath the guise of a warrior. This was not their first quiet night spent in the others arms, soft discussions of life before each had found the other. Of lacing fingers, feather light kisses and stories shared in the privacy of the forgiving darkness. “Which story do you want to hear?”

Violet's eyes swept down the inviting line of her throat, and settled on the small, neat circular dip beneath her left clavicle. Gently and deliberately placing her palm above the delicate mound of her breast and tapped her index and middle fingers against the fissure in the flesh. “This one.” She decided, meeting Clementine's gaze again. “It kinda looks like a bullet wound, but I always figured they would look messier. Like they did in movies.”

A low chuckle reverberated under Violet's touch, buzzing through the meat of her fingertips. “Tidy going in, not so much on the way out.” Clementine curled her shoulder toward Violet barely exposing the raised welt to her. “Feel under my shoulder.”

Violet reached her hand from its resting place on her chest to the spot Clementine suggested, her fingertips tracing the very edges of the spider webbed lines that radiated outwards from a slightly larger, more ragged circular wound positioned between her armpit and the curve of scapular. After a few moments of delicate exploration her touch shifted, skipping merrily along the spine hidden beneath warm flesh and corded muscle, coming to rest upon Clementine's rounded hip. Taking advantage of the closeness, Violet shifted closer and tucked herself in against Clementine's warmth, head tilting until her cheek lay against her shoulder and her eyes widening in fascination. “So you were shot?”

Clementine, still shivering against the tickling sensation left in the wake of Violet's gentle probing fingers, shifted. Rolling herself onto her back and drawing Violet with her, she pressed her own cheek to the corn silk strands for an instant before pulling back again and sighing softly. Her lips twisting up into a wry smile as she nodded. “You sound surprised.”

“I guess I am, a little.” Violet murmured softly, her brow creasing as she considered Clementine's words, trying to piece them to the knowledge that she had been previously gifted. “I mean, you said you'd been in groups before. With people who took care of you. So I think I'm just struggling to understand how would a kid catch a bullet.”

Clementine felt that frustrating tightness return to her throat at Violet's words, The deep set defensiveness that had kept her alive in the worst of times had her mind fighting to latch onto a barb that her heart knew wasn't there. Swallowing heavily, she tried to gulp the sensation away, hoping desperately that her voice held steady when she spoke. “It was a few days after AJ was born.” She paused, sucking a breath through her teeth, her voice, tiny and adrift in a sea of misery. “Fuck, the group was so broken. People just kept dropping one after another and the rest of us were barely holding together. And then we lost Becca, AJ's mom. She had such a rough labor and she was so tired. We should never have made her move so soon after. Maybe if we hadn't, if we had just sat tight a few more days, we'd have never been ambushed and she'd have not just slipped away with AJ in her arms.”

“She died? Holding AJ?” Violet's voice came gently, soothing. Her fingers reaching to clasp Clementine's once again, grounding her younger lover with her touch.

“She turned. I saw it and then everything just went to shit so fast. Saw her jaw opening to eat her own child.” Clementine tried to smile but it lacked any warmth and she was careful not to look down at the nestled blonde, otherwise the tears that she was furiously blinking back would spill. “So I took the shot and, in saving AJ, I triggered a fire fight that killed so many and wounded more. We took a prisoner. A lamed boy not much older than Omar was when Lilly-” She trailed off for a moment, shuffling through the memories and unable to look Violet in the eye. Guilt whipped in her chest at the admittance and shame took a strangle hold of her mind. Pulling her hand free from Violet's, she idly traced a finger along the long, ragged scar in her forearm. A dog bite that had almost cost her her life twice. An injury that no child should have had to handle alone and stitch closed themselves. She drew a shaking breath and carried on, a little more strongly. “We lost Luke next. The boy was leading us to one of his people's safe houses across a frozen lake. It was too thin. I tried to save him and we both fell through. He died saving me. With Luke gone, the group was done. Done with fighting walkers. Done with Kenny barking orders and biting at everyone who dared disagree. They were done with each other. Two of them robbed us. Took our supplies. Tried to take the truck Kenny had fixed up. They took the boy we had as prisoner but not before he put a bullet through me.”

She felt Violet shift beside her and panic slammed a fist of ice into her gut. Bile rose in her throat as the silence between the two young women stretched taunt. Unending. Clementine swallowed quickly, forcing the bitter rush back as her mind churned and she tucked her limbs beneath herself, curling into a tiny ball and prepared herself for the next words that Violet uttered to her to be full of hatred and contempt.

“That wasn't on you, Clem.” She felt Violet press closer to her not further away. Felt the long, coltish limbs coil around her in comfort, though it simply caused her to try to flinch away and retreat deeper into herself. And the words, her comforting voice, they simply bounced uselessly around Clementine's skull before being swallowed by a shroud of distress. Violet may as well have been howling at her in the same unintelligible voice of a starving walker for all of her understanding at that moment.

Clementine closed her eyes and curled tighter around her knees; clutching her wrist in one hand as she burrowed her face into the underside of her forearm as she desperately fought her instincts that screamed for her to lash out and flee. Struggling to withhold her confusion as her brain tried to comprehend why the other girl was crushing her into her chest instead of shoving her as far away as possible.

“I tried to fix it. I tried so fucking hard!”

“It wasn't your responsibility to fix. Christ, Clem! You were a fucking _kid!_ ”

Clementine's eyes snapped open at Violet's anguished words. The confusing despair fleeing as she tensed in the arms that felt almost too tight in their grasp of her. Gasping and gulping down painfully large mouthfuls of air in a vain attempt to ease the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “How can you say that? I was the one who fired a shot first. It was my fau-”

“So, do you blame me?” Violet cut in bluntly. Startling Clementine into silence as her finger moved, tracing the length of the divot that had carved a path so cleanly through the dark skin of her right collar. The scar left by Minnie when she had slashed at her. Hacking into the younger girl like she was little more than a cancer she needed to be rid of.

Violet closed her eyes, remembering how she had simply stood there. Torn and conflicted between her old and new love. The snarls of hatred that dripped over Minnie's curled lips, the flames of hardened contempt that consumed her eyes and purged her of the compassion that had once made Violet feel so safe and loved had her rooted to the spot. Terrified of this bestial side that she had never known lurked in the redhead as it burst free of its restraints in all of its horrifying glory.

She had never felt a shame burn so deeply, knowing that it had taken Clementine's cry of agony as the knife bit deeper, her strength failing, to move her. How it had taken the painfully young voice carrying notes of genuine terror, to finally fray the last true connection of her loyalty to a Minnie that was no longer there and spur her into diving for the abandoned crossbow. She remembered how her own voice had screeched and cracked, stumbling over her former loves full given name. Her tongue rejecting the foreign syllables as she became Minerva and not Minnie, not anymore.

She took a shuddering breath and fought to keep the strangling quaking from her words. “Following your own logic, what happened to you, it was my fault. My decision to stay here the day the twins were taken is what started it all. So I'm asking you, do you blame me for what happened to Minnie? For what she became, for the people she killed? Am I to blame for every last fucked up thing that she did?”

Time slowed to an agonizing crawl. It was a horrifyingly sobering thought and Violet was terrified to learn of Clementine's answer. Would she believe it to be a loss that _she_ had caused. A tragedy brought about because of her cowardice and her stupidity, her stubbornness and disloyalty.

Then finally, _finally,_ Clementine spoke. Her voice wobbling with her answer.

"No. It wasn't your fault." Her fingers carded gently through the sweat knotted strands, carefully teasing the snarls loose. "You were so brave that night. I'd have died without you." She whispered softly, her lids falling to half mast as she lost herself in the shimmering gems. For a moment a calm enveloped them both, but only a moment. As though she were spring loaded, Clementine suddenly bolted upright, her arms wrapping around Violet in a hold that was entirely too tight, but honestly, neither really cared. Fingers grasped, leaving angry red marks on bare skin and hearts thumped in an echoing cadence against the other. "I'm so sorry, Vi. You should have never had to make that choice. Not with a bolt and her blood."

Violet lowered her eyes back to the scars that mapped their journey through Clementines flesh before burying her face into her throat, breathing deep the salty tang of her skin. "No." She croaked, her voice scratchy with restrained emotion. "I think I did. I think-" She shook her head and pulled back to meet her eye again, dislodging the uncertainty as her voice strengthened with only a slight wobble. "I had to. I needed it to finally end. I couldn't do a damned thing to stop Marlon. I wasn't there to even try. But I could stop her. I could stop her from taking you away."

Clementine closed her eyes and leaned forward. Her forehead pressing to Violet's as the blonde sagged her weight into the touch and brushed her lips with her own. Soft like a butterfly's wing, flitting through the darkness. "Thank you. For choosing me."

She felt the hitching of breath rather than heard it. The stirring of air suddenly vacant from dancing over her cheeks and lashes, almost like Violet had forgotten exactly how to breathe. After a beat, the blonde broke her stall and smiled, finally dispelling the emotional tempest bottled within her eyes. And then Clementine caught it and the world around them stilled. That familiar vibrancy of stubborn determination that made Violet so perfectly Violet rekindled in the hearth of her eyes, steadily swelling from ember to flame.

"Always." She breathed and this time her voice was strong and sure. "It'll always be you, Clementine."

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to find me on discord.  
> skele-smol#0972  
> I'm always happy to talk to other fans of the game. And I'd love to make more Violentine shipper friends.


End file.
